


Of Love & Death

by bicycles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Hunters & Hunting, Married Couple, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 16:25:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2354960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bicycles/pseuds/bicycles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jo and Dean have taken up the threads of the family business to hunt the ghost of Edgar Allan Poe in Baltimore. A brief one-shot written for a friend's birthday. Established married couple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Love & Death

Rumor had it the ghost preferred this warehouse. Of all the warehouses on Thames, this one was the favorite of old pasty. Jo had it staked out from the waterfront, leaving Dean the side facing the maze of brick row homes and warehouses behind it. He wandered through the narrow alley between these homes and the back of the warehouses, eyes open for anything that screamed occult-loving monsters.  
  
He was starting to think old pasty had taken the night off when he heard a rustle behind him. Turning on his heel, he peered into the dim light that filtered in from the exterior lights.  
  
"Jesus," he said. "You scared me. Anything on the waterfront?"  
  
"Only a few yachts," she said, shotgun under her arm. "Not much room for the dead out there. What about you?"  
  
"Just you." He grinned a little bit. "Think we were conned?"  
  
"You know Garth… Give him any hint of Edgar Allan Poe's specter, and he'll have us on it." She matched his grin. "It's pretty spooky back here, isn't it?"  
  
Spooky was one word for it. Dirty, overcrowded, definitely unsafe. None of these acronyms bothered Dean. He knew they didn't bother her either.  
  
"Could say that. One of the witnesses said the bar he died's near here…"  
  
"You want to check it out?"  
  
"You read my mind."  
  
They stowed their major weapons in the Impala, and walked down Thames arm-in-arm. The air smelled of putrid fish; it was, the locals claimed, the smell of summer. He didn't doubt it, judging from the dark expanse of water that seemed to spread from three sides of the city, but that didn't make it more bearable.  
  
The pub where Poe died was between two pubs, all of them of about equal size: tiny.  
  
"The Horse You Came In On?"  
  
"Sounds about right."  
  
They'd been across the country in a week, following the leads of Garth, who had gracefully taken over Bobby's role in the hunt against evil. It had been a long drive, but somehow worth it to be breathing in the taste of the salty Chesapeake air. Well, when he couldn't smell the damn fish…  
  
The bar wasn't too crowded for a Wednesday night. It had the usual Poe memorabilia, and a plaque commemorating the famous events of the place. There were even a few articles pasted up about the recent sightings. Typical of a tourist joint.  
  
They ordered two of whatever was on tap -- Natty Bo's, said the bar tender -- and took a seat at one of the dark tables.  
  
"None of the witnesses saw anything here," he said, in a low undertone. He was surveying the crowd around them. Nothing suspicious so far. "Everything happened a few streets over…"  
  
"You're thinking it's a copycat?"  
  
He took a sip of his beer. "Maybe, or maybe it's just a confused spirit… Can't blame him if he's not into the tourist trade."  
  
She nodded. "Let's finish here and do another round of the neighborhood… If we don't find anything, we can head back to the motel…"  
  
"Yea," he agreed. Hunting with Jo was weird, not more weird than it had been at the beginning, with Bobby out of the picture, and Sam at Stanford, but still a little weird. Marriage hadn't really changed that. They did their thing: put evil spirits to rest, killed monsters, and at the end of the day, talked about what mattered most…  
  
Which, as far as Dean was concerned, was her, followed closely by hunting.  
  
It was their routine. It was weird, but it worked. He reached out to touch her hand. "Maybe we could try out that water taxi before we head back…"  
  
She smiled, her light-colored hair falling into her eyes. "You bet. I'm told the view from Federal Hill is the best."  
  
---


End file.
